All Hallow Eve or The Test of Futurity Part 26

He had left home, and left a report behind him, which he took care to have industriously circulated, that he had gone to Armagh, and was about to be married to "a young lady" with a large fortune, and that he would visit the metropolis, Fermanagh, and perhaps Sligo, before he returned. But he did not go further than an obscure public-house in a small village in the lower part of the county of Cavan. There he met the materials for carrying out his plan. The object of it was shortly this--to carry away Winny Cavana by force, and bring her to a _friend's_ house in the mountains behind the village adverted to. Here he was to have an old buckle-beggar at hand to marry them the moment Winny's spirit was broken to consent. This man, a degraded clergyman, as the report went, wandered about the country in green spectacles and a short, black cloak, always ready and willing to perform such a job; doubly willing and ready for this particular one from the reward which Tom had promised him. If even the marriage ceremony should fail, either through Winny's obstinacy or the clergyman's want of spirit to go through with it in the face of opposition, still he would keep her for ten days or a fortnight at this _friend's_ house, stopping there himself too; and at the end of that time, should he fail in obtaining her consent, he would quit the country for a while, and allow her to return home "so blasted in character" that even "that whelp" would disown her. There was a pretty specimen of a lover--a husband!

It was now the end of June. The weather had been dry for some time, and the nights were clear and mild; the stars shone brightly, and the early dawn would soon present a heavy dew hanging on the bushes and the gra.s.s. The moon was on the wane; but at a late hour of the night it was conspicuous in the heavens, adding a stronger light to that given by the clearness of the sky and the brilliancy of the stars.

Rathcash and Rathcashmore were sunk in still repose; and if silence could be echoed, it was echoed by the stillness of the mountains behind Shanvilla and beyond them. The inhabitants of the whole district had long since retired to rest, and now lay buried in sleep, some of them in confused dreams of pleasure and delight.

The angel of the dawn was scarcely yet awake, or he might have heard the sound of m.u.f.fled horses' feet and m.u.f.fled wheels creeping along the road toward the lane turning up to Rathcash house, about two hours before day; and he must have seen a man with a dark mask mounted on another m.u.f.fled horse at a little distance from the cart.

Presently Tom Murdock--there is no use in simulating mystery where none exists--took charge of the horse and cart to prevent them from moving, while three men stole up toward the house. Ay, there is Bully-dhu's deep bark, and they are already at the door.

"That dog! he'll betray us, boys," said one of the men.

"I'd blow his brains out if this pistol was loaded," said another; "and I wanted Tom to give me a cartridge."

"He wouldn't let any one load but himself, and he was right; a shot would be twiste as bad as the dog; beside, he's in the back yard, and cannot get out. Never heed him, but to work as fast as possible."

Old Ned Cavana and Winny heard not only the dog, but the voices.

Winny's heart foretold the whole thing in a moment, and she braced her nerves for the scene.

The door was now smashed in, and the three men entered. By this time old Ned had drawn on his trousers; and as he was throwing his coat over his head to got his arms into the sleeves he was seized, and ere you could count ten he was pinioned, with his arms behind him and his legs tied at the ankles, and a handkerchief tied across his mouth. Thus rendered perfectly powerless, he was thrown back upon the bed, and the room-door locked. Jamesy Doyle, who slept in the barn, had heard the crash of the door, and dressed himself in "less than no time," let Bully-dhu out of the yard, and brought him to the front door, in at which he rushed like a tiger. But Jamesy Doyle did not go in. That was not his game; but he peeped in at the window. No light had been struck, so he could make nothing of the state of affairs inside, except from the voices; and from what he heard he could make no mistake as to the object of this attack. He could not tell whether Tom Murdock was in the house or not, but he did not hear his voice.

One man said, "Come, now, be quick, Larry; the sooner we're off with her the better."

Jamesy waited for no more; he turned to the lane as the shortest way, but at a glance he saw the horse and cart and the man on horseback on the road outside; and turning again he darted off across the fields as fast as his legs could carry him.

Bully-dhu, having gained access to the house, showed no disposition to compromise the matter. "No quarter!" was his cry, as he flew at the nearest man to him, and seizing him by the throat, brought him to the ground with a _sough_, where in spite of his struggles, he held him fast with a silent, deadly grip. He had learned this much, at least, by his encounter with the mastiff on New Year's day.

Careless of their companion's strait, who they thought ought to be able to defend himself, the other two fellows--and powerful fellows they were--proceeded to the bed-room to their left; they had locked the door to their right, leaving poor old Ned tied and insensible on the bed. Winny was now dressed and met them at the door.

"Are you come to commit murder?" she cried, as they stopped her in the doorway; "or have you done it already? Let me to my father's room."

"The sorra harm on him, miss, nor the sorra take the hair of his head well hurt no more nor your own. Come, put on your bonnet an' cloak, an' come along wid us; them's our ordhers."

"You have a master, then. Where is he? where is Tom Murdock?--I knew Tom _Murder_ should have been his name. Where is he, I say?"

"Come, come, no talk; but on wid your bonnet and cloak at wanst."

"Never; nor shall I ever leave this house except torn from it by the most brutal force. Where is your master, I say? Is he afraid of the rope himself which he would thus put round your necks?"

"Come, come, on wid your bonnet an' cloak, or, be the powers, we'll take you away as you are."

"Never; where is your master, I say?"

"Come, Larry, we won't put up wid any more of her pillaver; out wid the worsted."

Here Biddy Murtagh rushed in to her mistress's aid; but she was soon overpowered and tied "neck and heels," as they called it, and thrown upon Winny's bed. They had the precaution to gag her also with a handkerchief, that she might not give the alarm, and they locked the door like that at the other end of the house.

Larry, whoever he was, then pulled a couple of skeins of coa.r.s.e worsted from his pocket, while his companion seized Winny round the waist, outside her arms; and the other fellow, who seemed expert, soon tied her feet together, and then her hands. A thick handkerchief was then tied across her mouth.

"Take care to lave plenty of braithin' room out iv her nose, Larry,"

said the other ruffian; and, thus rendered unable to move or scream, they carried her to the road and laid her on the car. The horseman in the mask asked them where the third man was, and they replied that he must have "made off" from the dog, for that they neither saw nor heard him after the dog flew at him.

This was likely enough. He was the only man of the party in whom Tom Murdock could not place the most unbounded confidence.

"The cowardly rascal," he said. "We must do without him."

But he had _not_ made off from the dog.

The cart was well provided--_to do Tom Murdock justice_--with a feather-bed over plenty of straw, and plenty of good covering to keep out the night air. They started at a brisk trot, still keeping the horses' feet and the wheels m.u.f.fled; and they pa.s.sed down the road where the reader was once caught at a dog-fight.

But to return, for a few minutes, to Rathcash house. Bully-dhu was worth a score of old Ned Cavana, even supposing him to have been at liberty, and free of the cords by which he was bound. The poor old man had worked the handkerchief by which he had been gagged off his mouth, by rubbing it against the bed-post. He had then rolled himself to the door; but further than that he was powerless, except to ascertain, by placing his chin to the thumb-latch, for he had got upon his feet, that it was fastened outside. He then set up a lamentable demand for help--upon Winny, upon Biddy Murtagh, and upon Bully-dhu. The dog was the only one who answered him, with a smothered growl, for he still held fast by the grip he had taken of the man's throat. Poor Bully!

you need not have been so pertinacious of that grip--the man has been _dead_ for the last ten minutes! Finding that it was indeed so, from the perfect stillness of the man, Bully-dhu released his hold, and lay licking his paws and keeping up an angry growl, in answer to the old man's cries.

We must leave them and follow Jamesy Doyle across the fields, and see if it was cowardice that made him run so fast from the scene of danger. Ah, no! Jamesy was not that sort of a chap at all. He was plucky as well as true to the heart's core. Nor was his intelligence and judgment at fault for a moment as to the best course for him to adopt. Seeing the fearful odds of three stout men against him, he knew that he could do better than to remain there, to be tied "neck and crop" like the poor old man and Biddy. So, having brought Bully-dhu round and given him 'his cue, he started off, and never drew breath until he found himself outside Emon-a-knock's window at Shanvilla, on his way to the nearest police station.

"Are you there, Emon?" said he, tapping at it.

"Yes," Emon replied from his bed; "who are you, or what do you want?"

"Jamesy Doyle from Rathcash house. Get up at wanst! They have taken away Miss Winny."

"Great heaven I do you say so? Here, father, get up in a jiffy and dress yourself. They have taken away Winny Cavana, and we must be off to the rescue like a shot. Come in, Jamesy, my boy." And while they were "drawing on" their clothes, they questioned him as to the particulars.

But Jamesy had few such to give them, as the reader knows; for, like a sensible boy, he was off for help without waiting for particulars.

The princ.i.p.al point, however, was to know what road they had taken.

Upon this Jamesy was able to answer with some certainty, for ere he had started finally off, he had watched them, and he had seen the cart move on under the smothered cries of Winny; and he heard the horseman say, "Now, boys, through the pa.s.s between 'the sisters.'"

"They took the road to the left from the end of the lane, that's all I know; so let you cut across the country as fast as you can, an' you'll be at Boher before them. Don't delay me now, for I must go on to the police station an' hurry out the sargent and his men; if you can clog them at the bridge till I cam' up with the police, all will be rights an' we'll have her back wid us. I know very well if I had a word wid Miss Winny unknown to the men, she would have sent me for the police; but I took you in my way--it wasn't twenty perch of a round."

"Thank you, Jamesy, a thousand times! There, be off to the sergeant as fast as you can; tell him you called here, and that I have calculated everything in my mind, and for him and his men to make for Boher-na-Milthiogue bridge as fast as possible. There, be off, Jamesy, and I'll give you a pound-note if the police are at the bridge before Tom Murdock comes through the pa.s.s with the cart."

"You may keep your pound, man! I'd do more nor that for Miss Winny."

And he was out of sight in a moment.

The father and son were now dressed, and, arming themselves with two stout sticks, they did not "let the gra.s.s grow under their feet." They hurried on until they came to the road turning down to where we have indicated that our readers were once caught at a dog-fight. Here Emon examined the road as well as he could by the dim light which prevailed, and found the fresh marks of wheels. He could scarcely understand them. They were not like the tracks of any wheels he had ever seen before, and there were no tracks of horses' feet at all, although Jamesy had said there was a horseman beside the horse and cart.

Emon soon put down these unusual appearances--and he could not well define them for want of light--to some cunning device of Tom Murdock; and how right he was!

"Come on, father," said he. "I am quite certain they have gone down here. I know Tom Murdock has plenty of a.s.sociates in the county Cavan, and the pa.s.s between 'the sisters' is the shortest way he can take.

Beside, Jamesy heard him say the words. Our plan must be to cut across the country and get to Milthiogue bridge before they get through the pa.s.s and so escape us. What say you, father--are you able and willing to push on, and to stand by me? Recollect the odds that are against us, and count the cost."

"Emon, I'll count nothing; but I'll--

"Here, father, in here at this gap, and across by the point of Mullagh hill beyond; we must get to Boher before them."

"I'll count no cost, Emon, I was going to tell you. I'm both able and willing, thank G.o.d, to stand by you. You deserve it well of me, and so do the Cavanas. G.o.d forbid I should renuage my duty to you and them!

Aren't ye all as wan as the same thing to me now?"

Emon now knew that his father knew all about Winny and him.